


Not As It Seems Part XV

by eliniel



Series: Emet-Selch/WoL [19]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: All Saints' Wake (Final Fantasy XIV), Domestic Fluff, Gen, Halloween, Pumpkin carving, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 05:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21174413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliniel/pseuds/eliniel
Summary: As the Warrior of Light prepares her haunted house for All Saint's Wake, she takes a moment to teach Emet-Selch how to carve a pumpkin.





	Not As It Seems Part XV

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoy it. I found it rather adorable and endearing, but I also really love carving pumpkins and baking the seeds.

I walked through the door of my house carrying two large pumpkins under my arms. After kicking the door closed with my foot, I set them both down on the dining table, Emet-Selch watching me from a plush chair in the corner with a raised brow. 

I put my hands on my hips as I peered over at him from across the table.

“Yes?” I inquired and he lifted a brow. “You have that  _ look _ on your face.” He tilted his head to the side, one side of his mouth tugging upward. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear hero,” he said, a slight chuckle in his voice. I shook my head at him and hung it with a sigh. 

“Thousands of years old and I still have to teach you things,” I mused. When I lifted my head again, I motioned towards the pumpkins. “They’re for carving,” I informed him. He lounged back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other and steepled his fingers, expecting me to continue. I rolled my eyes and instead of explaining further, went to the kitchen, looking for my knife set. 

When I returned, I set the utensils onto the table and looked back up at the Ascian.

“Well, come on,” I ordered. “You’re going to help me.” He scoffed, not deigning to move.

“I am, am I?” he asked me, his usual smirk appearing on his face. I huffed and crossed my arms. 

“I didn’t get a two for myself,” I shot back. We stared at each other for a few long moments, both of us stubborn and unrelenting. 

Finally, I pursed my lips and walked over to him. I curled my fingers around his arm and tugged. “Come on,” I reiterated. “You’re a guest in  _ my _ house, if you’ve forgotten.”

Finally, he gave in to my wishes and shrugged his shoulders, dramatic as always.

“Oh fine,” he sighed and sat up in the chair. “I suppose I can humor you for a while longer.”

“Oh,” I started, sarcasm dripping from my words. I leaned down, close to his face, a sly smile on my mouth. “Well, thank you. How generous you are, my dear Ascian.” He breathed a laugh and took my chin in one hand, pressing a long, sweet kiss to my lips.

When he pulled away, his expression was smug. “I know,” he whispered. I shook my head again and pulled away to allow him the room to stand.

When he had, he put a hand on the small of my back and led me back to the table. “Now, hero, would you be so kind as to explain what exactly I’m helping you with?”

“As part of the decorations for the Wake, it’s customary to carve pumpkins,” I elaborated.

“Carve...what?”

“Well, generally…” I put my hand to my chin. “Whatever you want, really, though it’s usually supposed to be spooky.”

I watched as he considered my words, eyes focusing on the pumpkins. 

“Alright,” he said, finally. “I’ll play along.” 

With a smug, triumphant look, I picked up one of my smaller knives and sat down, turning one of the large fruits towards me. The Ascian began sliding his gloves off his hand as he took a seat at the head of the table. 

I started cutting a circle around the stem, ignoring as Emet-Selch watched me with no short of unmasked fascination. I took the top off scraped the tendrils of pulp off of the inside before setting it aside. I looked at the few seeds in my hand and pursed my lips. 

“Could you...summon me a bowl? I forgot to get one.” He huffed a laugh, but snapped his fingers, one of my own appearing on the table between our pumpkins. With a smile, I dropped the seeds into the bowl and looked at him expectantly.

“Go on, then,” I ordered. “Cut a lid like I did so we can put a candle in it later and scoop out the innards. Make sure to save the seeds.”

“For?”

“We’re going to bake them and eat them.” His brows shot up in surprise as I plunged my arm inside the hole I’d just cut and lifted a handful of pulp and seeds out. He looked down at his pumpkin again and snapped. Instantly, there was a hole in the top, the seeds separated from the pulp, both in separate, neat piles on the table.

I rolled my eyes at him with a sigh. “No, absolutely not.”

He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “And why not?”

“This is one of those things you  _ have _ to do with your hands. You can’t cheat.” With a huff and a shake of his head, he snapped again, the pumpkin returning to normal, then shrugged out of his overcoat and rolled his sleeved up.

“Fine, then. The  _ mortal _ way.” He reached across the table and picked up one of my knives, then set to work. 

We both sat in silence as we worked, our knives passing through the fruit the only sound between the two of us. 

After a long while, I set my knife down with a content smile, inspecting my work, then went to stand behind the Ascian to watch. 

“Don’t watch too closely, my dear warrior, or I’ll develop performance anxiety,” he said, amusement in his voice. I breathed a laugh and wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, leaning into his back.

“Wouldn’t that be a shame?” I whispered into his ear. He hummed his approval as I pressed a kiss to the skin under his ear. He leaned his head back against my collarbone in response and looked up at me, amber eyes examining my face.

“Must you be so tempting? I am  _ trying _ to do as _ you _ asked, you know.” A sly grin crossed my mouth.

“Tempting, am I? Maybe that was the point.” I heaved a dramatic sigh. “But fine, since you are  _ so insistent, _ I won’t divert your attention any longer.” I glanced at his pumpkin, then, and paused. “Isn’t-isn’t this your mask?”

“Yes. It seemed rather…’spooky’, as you put it.” 

“Hmm,” I hummed thoughtfully, as I inspected the design. “For your first pumpkin, this is pretty good.”

“You’ll find I’m  _ good _ at a great many things, hero,” he retorted, his tone smug. I breathed a laugh, then reached for the bowl of seeds and stood up straight. 

“Arrogant as always, I see.” I shook my head, my lips tugging upward. “Are you finished?”

The Ascian looked back at his pumpkin with a tilted head and a hand to his chin, examining his work. With a shrug, he nodded and leaned his head against the back of the chair to look up at me, his gold eyes languid, but almost glowing. “I suppose.”

I lifted a brow in response as his hair tumbled back with the movement of his head in an entirely distracting way. 

“Now who’s being tempting?” I asked, leaning over him again. With a smirk, he lifted his head, his lips meeting mine for a moment before laying it back on the chair again.

“Maybe that was the point,” he shot back at me, reusing my own words. I rolled my eyes with an exasperated sigh and shook the bowl, the pumpkin seeds shuffling around inside. 

“Alright,” I said with finality. “Onto the seeds.” I moved away from him and started for the kitchen. 

“Didn’t you mention something about candles?” Emet-Selch asked me. I paused and turned again, finding him twisted around the look at me, still seated. I held one finger up.

“All in good time, my  _ dear Ascian _ . First, we bake the seeds.” 

When we entered the kitchen, I set him to work turning the oven on and finding a sheet pan while I went to the faucet and washed the seeds. I laid them out on a towel to dry them, then put them back in the bowl. 

He set the pan on the counter next to me, then wound his hands around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder, as he watched me reach for the olive oil and salt. I smiled as he pressed himself against my back and tossed the seeds in the bowl with both ingredients. 

I placed the pan in front of me and spread them across its surface, making sure none overlapped. 

“Is the oven ready?” I asked him as I separate seeds. He lifted his head to look back.

“I believe so,” he answered, then released my waist so that I could slide them inside. 

“How long?” When I stood straight again, I looked at the clock to note the time, then grabbed one of his hands.

“About half an hour. Back to sticking crepe to the crown molding,” I said with a grin. He huffed and rolled his eyes, but followed me without a fight, wrapping his hand around mine as we walked.

A while later, as the sun set over Eorzea, I pulled the pan out of the oven and moved them to a shallow bowl. With it in hand, I grabbed two small candles from a drawer and went back to the dining table. 

Emet-Selch placed the pumpkins side-by-side so their designs faced us. I set my bowl down and reached into the pumpkins, setting the candles inside each, then using a fire spell to light them. He sat down in one of the chairs and watched as I placed the lids on them. 

“Turn out the light, would you?” I asked him, picking the bowl up again and placing another chair next to his. 

The Ascian snapped and the lights in the entire house extinguished. I smiled, sitting back in my chair as the orange light in the pumpkins shone with an intensity against the dark of the room and tossed a couple of seeds in my mouth. 

I offered the bowl to him, and he took a few, inspecting them first, and then popped them in his mouth. He leaned against me as he chewed, watching the fire flicker, casting shadows on us. 

“This is acceptable, I suppose,” he said. I breathed a laugh and laid my head on his shoulder. His arm came around me, holding me tight.

“Admit it,” I started, unable to keep the chuckle from my voice. “You had fun.” He was quiet for a few long seconds before sighing.

“Perhaps a small amount.”

With a snap of his fingers, the fireplace in the room beyond lit. He nudged me to prompt me to sit up, then stood. 

“Come, hero,” he said, holding his hand out. “Let’s go sit by the fire and you can tell me more about your  _ strange _ customs and traditions.”

I shook my head, my lips tugging upward, but slid my fingers into his and he pulled me up. As he made his way to the other room, I blew the candles out, then made to follow, the bowl of seeds tucked under my arm.

**Author's Note:**

> For roasting seeds: Wash all the pumpkin off of them & dry them. Spray a pan with cooking spray, toss seeds with olive oil & salt, cinnamon sugar, whatever your favorite flavor is. Bake at 325 for 20-30 minutes until desired roasty-ness <3


End file.
